


Braiding Strands

by tinylittlestars



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Team as Family, edited 07/27 to fix grammar + diction + spacing errors, this became much more dialogue driven than expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinylittlestars/pseuds/tinylittlestars
Summary: It was a routine like clockwork. His mom would sit down at the kitchen table chair, and Akira would pop up with a single decorative hair clip. It wasn’t too difficult for him to learn at all, though she laughed at some of his first crooked and lopsided attempts. He was quite adept with his hands, and something to ground him to reality in turn led him to be more engaged in conversation. He felt like there was so many fond moments between him and his mom during this time. It’s no wonder he associates hair braiding with a time of idyllic happiness.__Akira is good at braiding hair. That's literally the whole fic.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Kurusu Akira & Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Kurusu Akira & Sakura Futaba, Kurusu Akira & Sakura Sojiro, Persona 5 Protagonist & Phantom Thieves of Hearts
Comments: 24
Kudos: 393
Collections: Marigolds Discord Recs, Quality Persona Fics





	1. Chapter 1

Akira really liked his seat in class. For someone who (unfortunately) stood out in school as he did, having a seat closer to the back was nice. Not to mention the window seat provided some good stimuli for him during tedious math lectures. The girl who sat on his right didn’t want to share her textbooks with him on his first day of class, but otherwise relegated to never acknowledging his presence. The boy behind him seemed too intimidated to initiate contact with him but was polite to him all the same. 

Honestly, the problem was what was in front of him.

Akira had no issues with Ann at all, of course. Beyond the whole, “We’re literally supernatural brothers in arms against corrupt society” thing, she was a lovely girl with one of the purest hearts he’d ever met. The problem wasn’t with Ann at all. It was her hair, glowing gently in the sunlight from the window that distracted him from time to time.

The other Phantom Thieves at some point, asked Akira how his relationship with his parents was like. After all, it seemed like there was a trend in the group to have absent parent(s) in some way or form. Surprisingly, Akira said that he contacts them weekly, and never with much tension.

He was particularly close to his mother, a natural consequence of being an only child with a stay at home mother. Back home, there wasn’t too much for a grade school kid to do after classes ended, so he tended to spend a lot of time with his mom. His mom was next to perfect, in his definitely unbiased opinion. She’s kind and compassionate, but was also where he inherited some of his subdued chaotic tendencies. Akira has a lot of love for her, just as she has for him.

Unfortunately, his mother suffered from sort of joint issue. It wasn’t too debilitating, but it was the worst in the morning. The flares would make using her wrists painful and distracting to her tasks at hand. As Akira grew older, he tended to take care of the house duties that started in the morning on occasion until he would leave to school and the inflammation was manageable. Making breakfast was as easy as breathing at this point, and both of his parents are amazed at how well he is at ironing a blazer last moment. Before he moved to Tokyo, he was quite the early bird. 

His favorite thing to do however, was braiding his mom’s hair.

Akira’s mother always had her hair braided. It wasn’t quite practical for her to have it down, and she stated that she isn’t “so old that her hair had to be in a bun”. Even with her joint pain, she could theoretically still style her own hair, but it was a task that her son clearly had no issue helping out with. 

“Akira-kun, could you help me with my hair before you head to school?” It was a routine like clockwork. His mom would sit down at the kitchen table chair, and Akira would pop up with a single decorative hair clip. It wasn’t too difficult for him to learn at all, though she laughed at some of his first crooked and lopsided attempts. He was quite adept with his hands, and something to ground him to reality in turn led him to be more engaged in conversation. He felt like there was so many fond moments between him and his mom during this time. It’s no wonder he associates hair braiding with a time of idyllic happiness.

It was an act he definitely missed. The days he was homesick, the bigger the urge was.

Akira wasn’t quite hung up on gender norms, and wasn’t worried about being seen as feminine or anything like that. He just felt that it would be strange for him to ask Ann such a request. If such an act in public wouldn't be socially detrimental to Ann, he honestly would have no issues plaiting her hair mid-history lecture.

For now though, pencil twirling will have to suffice. If and only if because Morgana banned him from excessive fur tousling during naps as a way to busy his hands. Ugh.

\---

“Ann. May I sketch you at this particular moment? You needn't worry about posing this time, you can continue with your activities. ”

The gang was in a spacious diner in Shibuya, cups and empty plates stacked somewhat neatly in the corner of the table. As nice as it is to hang out in Leblanc, they were a bit too flashy and loud, and Sojiro had to make a living. Not to mention, Akira appreciated spending time elsewhere. Fresh sights. Akira (and he hoped by extension, the rest of the table) had a lot of quiet enjoyment in times like these. Just hanging around with friends, basking in each other’s company without necessarily having to talk. It was very comforting to him, a nice break amidst the constant tension of deadlines, and all these questions with no answers.

Though the hangout was planned as a study group, the lack of proximity to exams meant that the amount of studying was actually quite low. While Makoto was diligently completing coursework with only the quietest requests to not be too rowdy, Ryuji is playing some first person shooter on his phone in landscape, with one ear listening to earbuds. Ann was on her phone as well, bouncing between filling up her online calendar and texting someone, presumably Shiho. Akira was half-heartedly doing homework as well, only motivated by the fact that later this evening he would have to help out Yoshida with a speech and would have no time then. Morgana was nibbling some food in the booth, sitting in between Ann and Akira. Yusuke was lightly sketching with a worn sketchbook, but had a definite expression that screamed slight frustration. 

“Oh, are you struggling with inspiration?” Ann glanced up from her phone to look at Yusuke.

He ran his hands through his hair in a stressed manner. “Yes. It’s too late into the day to travel outside for a spark, yet too early into the evening to cease my efforts all together. It’s quite a predicament, and I apologize for having to rely on you once more. Do let me sketch you. The lighting here is quite atmospheric. It enchants you in a different way than the sunset or typical indoor lighting accomplishes.”

Ann smiled kindly. “Of course, Yusuke! As long as the clothes don’t have to go off, hahaha.” She laughed but the horrors of that fiasco mar her expression ever so slightly.

“Please for the love of god, no clothes off. I am not leaving another location out of embarrassment because of your guys’ propensity to public displays of nudity.” Makoto shot off without even ceasing her pencil dashing across the page. 

Ryuji put down his phone at that. “Hey, a dare is a dare and it isn’t illegal for guys to remove their shirts in public, I think.”

“To be fair, it’s weird to do this during rush hour in the subway.” Akira pointed out.

“To be fair” Ryuji imitated, drawing out the vowel much more than it needed to be. “You were the one to dare me to take off my shirt!” He had a point there, too. Akira nodded to that.

“Also, you didn’t just remove your shirt. You removed it and immediately tried to make it into a Featherman visor before Makoto got off a station early to not be seen with us. ANYWAYS, there is no nudity so this doesn’t need to be discussed!” Ann really was not a fan of that whole nude modeling thing, understandably. 

“You guys are embarrassing to be around. If I had the choice, I’d have done the same” Morgana chirped in. 

“I found that display to be quite enlightening, to be honest. The sight of two companions having a bold moment of immaturity in public like they had the world to themselves was fascinating. Regardless, would you be able to modify your hairstyle for just a moment, Ann?” Morgana gained more interest in the conversation suddenly, peering up from his seat. 

“Hmm, Lady Ann would look quite nice in a different hair style.” He was in a slight daze, staring at Ann. “Something that would suit the sort of art Yusuke makes, something classy!”

“I’ve never actually seen her with a different hairstyle. Even throughout middle school, actually. What gives, Ann? You don’t know how to do anything else with your hair?” Ryuji joked, but the deer in the headlights look on her face said that he hit the nail on the head.

“Hey! My hair is a landmine in the morning. It gets all frizzy so I don’t want to keep it down, and something like a braid is so hard with how much of it there is, not to mention the total arm workout it is.” Ann looked away in slight embarrassment and annoyance. “I have to arrive earlier than other models to shoots so the hairdresser can spend some time to make it more photogenic.” 

Yusuke only heard one word in that. “A braid! That would be magnificent, the perfect ignition to an almost wasted day.” He clapped his hands together once, in a sudden burst of energy. “I implore you, a braid would be suitable for this task.”

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve had my hair braided actually, but I definitely can not be the one to do it.” Ann turned to the only other girl in the table. “Makoto! Sorry to interrupt, but would you be able to do it for me?” Makoto finally paused her homework.

“Sorry, I’m not too great at braiding hair either. Sis didn’t really let me practice on her, and I’ve always kept my hair on the short side.” Makoto moved a strand of her own hair behind her ear. 

“But what about that braid you have in your hair right now and all the time?” Ryuji pointed towards Makoto’s scalp.

Makoto, strangely enough, flushed slightly red. “I get that a lot. It’s actually a... hairband.” She demonstrated this information by lifting it off her head and holding it on her hands, feeling slightly exposed.

“For real? This whole time I thought it was your hair!” Of course, Ryuji was shocked but Ann and Morgana looked surprised as well. 

“I can’t believe Ryuji dropped a famed ‘for real’ about hair of all things, but I agree that is surprising to me too”. Morgana was never one to skip a moment to get on Ryuji’s case. In turn, Ryuji stuck his tongue out at him.

“Mmm, it makes sense.” Akira spoke up for the first time in a little while, commanding attention with just that fact alone. “It’s a good match for your hair color, and is very nice, but a braid that small with hair your length would be a lot of work to keep perfectly like that.” He felt all eyes on him, but kept a straight face despite.

“Akira, do you perhaps know how to braid hair?” Yusuke inquired with surprise and delight on his face.

Akira nodded as he shuffled his hands into his pockets, a weird gesture whilst sitting down but it was comforting regardless. “Yeah. My mom has joint issues in some mornings, back home. Nothing too major. I usually braid her hair for her. It’s fun” He had a small but genuine smile on his face, thinking of his mom.

“What a surprising development. You never cease to amaze me with your endless talents. I must say though, I think such a fine, meticulous talent suits you well though.” Yusuke stated, sharpening a pencil in preparation for a new piece. 

“Kay. First of all, no one is ever allowed to call only me a mama’s boy after he dropped that. Welcome to the club though, bro.” Ryuji raised a fist towards Akira’s direction, which he knocked back in bro solidarity. “Second of all, how the hell are you able to eat a 5000+ calorie burger in one sitting AND also braid hair?”

“I am a man of multiple talents.” They couldn’t argue with that fact.

At this point, even Makoto stopped any efforts to do her homework. “Alright then, let’s see it.” She looked very interested in this, as did everyone else.

“Oh! Are you actually going to do it, Akira? I’m so excited to see how it turns out! I got my hair texture from my dad so my mom used to be sooo frustrated when she did my hair, so it was sort of stressful on me too. Make it nice then, please!”

Akira stood up, grabbing a chair from to place at the end of their table. Luckily the upstairs portion of the diner was empty. He faced Ann and gestured to the chair “Here then, please.” 

Morgana moved out of the way so Ann could shuffle out of the booth. She had a big grin on her face, and sat in the chair as quickly as possible, before taking out her pigtails and handing Akira the hairbands. Akira stood behind the chair, slightly wiggling his fingers to get motion in them after doing chemistry homework for so long. The rest of the group watched in interest, Yusuke especially.

“Dude, if this turns out well you gotta teach me how to do this! Ladies dig a guy who can braid hair.” 

“‘If?’ You wound me.” Akira shot back plainly, slightly shaking out Ann’s hair before he began. He grabbed a strand of Ann’s hair, testing to see how tight the braid should be. It seems like it would have good hold, so he figures that something too tight isn’t necessary. 

Although it’s been a couple of months since he’s braided hair, the muscle memory remained completely intact. He slightly smoothed each strand before manipulating them around each other. A smile graced his face despite his hands moving expertly through the hair. He took his time, making sure he wasn’t pulling too harshly. His mother was quite tender headed, so even if Ann wasn’t, he’s sure she would appreciate his gentleness regardless.

“You look very relaxed, Akira.” Makoto noted, seeing the serenity in his face.

“I’m very happy to do this, as strange as that sounds. It reminds me of home. Of family. I feel like I could almost smell my mom’s home cooking in the air right now. Or hear grandma’s wind chimes moving in the porch.” There was something different in the way Akira spoke now. His words were a lot less blunt. The ever present barrier of his guarded nature seemed to have come down. It was so rare to hear Akira ramble, especially about something personal, but it was a pleasant sight to his friends all the same.

“This is quite a different side of you. It’s different than how you typically present, and it’s different than Joker. I’m most joyed about that alone, regardless of the end result of Ann’s hair” Yusuke, like the rest of the group, was enthralled by watching Akira’s hands deftly work through the hair. 

“This is relaxing. I wish I knew you were good at this so I could’ve asked sooner, actually” Ann said in a subdued voice, lightly patting the completed part of the braids. Even without actually seeing it, she can feel how well Akira plaited her hair. There was no bumps of hair poking out at the roots, and he didn’t pull on them like her mom did, so there was no cringing in pain. She relaxed slightly in the chair, careful to not get too comfortable to not interfere with the process.

“Hah, I was wondering why he would stare so intently at your hair in class sometimes. I see now why!” Morgana ratted him out. Akira had the barest hints of a blush at that comment, but didn’t stumble.

“The days when I missed home the most, that’s when I want to braid the most. I do my best thinking when my hands aren’t idle, I think. I like it better than twirling my pen or phone around. Although that might also be partially because I accidentally hit Mishima with a pen one time during our first round of exams trying to remember how to apply a formula. Luckily no one noticed, him included.” The group noticed how much more talkative Akira is in group compared to normal. It would do good to indulge this side of him more often. Although their leader was rarely tense in the real world, his shoulders lacked any of the burdens he was currently carrying at the moment. He felt more present than usual.

Akira bent his knees ever so slightly to finish the braid. Although his mom had a similar hair texture to Ann (he had to inherit his curls from someone, after all), Ann’s hair was much longer, something he didn’t quite notice due to her usual high pigtails. He didn’t mind though. If anything, he enjoyed the entire process, feeling distinctly more at ease than he had before he entered the diner.

“There it is.” He twirled the end of the braid before using the hairtie to finish it off. Akira stepped out of the way, allowing for Ann to stand up and twirl around to show the rest of the thieves Akira’s handiwork. 

The braid was impressive. Despite the fact that Ann’s hair isn’t straight, there was no hair out of place. It cascaded down her back, perfectly balanced. Morgana was right, it definitely had a classy feeling to it, highlighting more of her facial features. 

“Actually sick, dude!” Ryuji offered him another fist bump, which Akira gladly bumped back again. Bros. 

“Agreed. This is exactly the vision in my mind when I requested such a thing. Thank you so much, Akira. You continue to lay the path of beauty in front of me, and I appreciate it immensely.” Yusuke flipped to a new page of his sketchbook, working with a vigor that hadn’t appeared until now.

At this point, Ann had already pulled out her phone camera, checking the work with interest. “I didn’t doubt you would be able to do it, but it turned out to be so much more amazing than I thought. Thank you thank you, Akira!” She chatted excitedly, taking a quick selfie to send to Shiho with a big grin. 

“No, thank you. It was no work at all, and like Morgana mentioned, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” Akira smiled back, placing his hands back into his pockets with distinct ease. 

“You should do it more often! Lady Ann looks so beautiful with this hairstyle. You’ll have to teach me once I get my human body back.”

“Of course.” Akira replied, while ruffling his fur slightly. Morgana pretended to be annoyed by the action. Akira and Ann shuffled back into the booth once more, everyone returning back to what they were doing previously, with the exception of Ann taking more pictures in giddy joy. 

“It looked like you were relaxing to us too. A job well done, I do agree you should do it more often if it makes you happy.” Makoto stated, also smiling at the warm scene in the table. 

Happy was right, Akira thought. As much as the homesickness hit him on occasion, he had a family right here in Tokyo too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futaba enters the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this need another chapter? Absolutely not. Too bad tho

The thing about Akira is that he’s awful at moderation. He’s all or nothing. Once he starts back up on a habit that’s only stopped due to inaccessibility, he can’t go back to before. While he hasn’t taken up earlier thoughts of braiding Ann’s hair mid-lecture, he’s done it in other places.

Especially during Phantom Thieves meetings.

The first time it happens after that diner in Shibuya is met with little resistance. The group meets up after the sun sets, in the attic. Akira sits on his bed, Morgana on his side as always. The weight of Medjed’s threats from this morning is weighing on him, on all of them. He lightly but consistently taps his foot out of anxiety, unable to find a solution to their current threats as he idly surfs on his phone.

He hears the creaks of the footsteps working slowly towards him, and suddenly Ann and Ryuji appear.

“Man I wish we coulda meet up under chiller circumstances.” Ryuji says, roughly pulling a chair from the table and making himself comfortable. “I wasn’t able to focus in class at all.”

“Like you pay attention in class anyways. But yeah, I totally messed up on my shoot today. Just wasn’t in the mood at all.” Ann replies back. However, to Akira’s surprise, instead of her taking the couch as always, Ann plops herself on the floor in front of him. “Akiiira. Can you braid my hair again please? I need something to relax me, at least until Yusuke and Makoto arrive and we can have a proper discussion.”

“Yeah dude, it looks like you need something to do anyways. Boss might come upstairs and yell at you about all of that leg shaking you’re doing.” Ryuhi gestured to Akira’s increasingly shaking foot. Damn. He’s more stressed than usual if he’s unable to hide his anxious tics.

Akira nods, accepting the offer, and begins his work again. It proved to be a lot more soothing than his usual phone twirling. Even though braiding required less coordination, the human element of someone he trusted being close, as well as the fact that it required both hands did a lot to soothe him. He didn't feel self conscious the first time he did it, but right now Akira isn’t bothered by this at all, despite the small audience. Makoto and Yusuke trickle in not too long after. If they had some comment, then Akira didn’t hear it. 

As usual, business begins as soon as everyone is present. While the thieves are shooting back observations and suggestions, Akira undoes and restart the braids twice over. They don’t have the real expertise to call this as a bluff, if it is, nor the ability to adequately respond. It’s the most stressful of meetings so far ever since they really learned how the metaverse works. Too much uncertainty. Sojiro gruffly (but not aggressively) asks them to quiet down once or twice. 

The inevitably to form a proper plan is stressful. Busying his hands helps ease off some tension (and he hopes it does the same to Ann), but is no way a solution.

\--

Every subsequent meeting, until Futaba officially joins their group, is much of the same. Being forced into unwilling positions, anxiety, and braiding. It’s as natural as breathing. No one even bats an eye anymore when Ann sits down in front of Akira. 

For now though, they’re able to breathe again. No more Medjed, no more mysterious Alibaba, no more worrying over Futaba and the unusual circumstances of her mother’s death. Just beach planning.

The day after Futaba wakes up and Medjed is officially a threat no more, another meeting is called in the attic. Amazingly, despite her extreme proximity to Leblanc, Futaba arrives last. Although the adventure they just embarked on together in her palace was definitely more than enough to start a bond with the group, Futaba is still a bit more than shy, and immediately dashes across the room to sit next to Akira.

Though she looks unwilling to bring more attention to herself, Futaba mutters a quick “Sorry, just working up the courage to come over” before closing her mouth again. In the midst of her haste, she doesn’t take a proper look at the group until she’s seated. Expectedly, Yusuke is sketching dutifully into a notebook, Makoto is shooting her a welcome but quiet smile, and Ryuji is using some pencils to drum out a simple beat. Morgana is in between Akira and her, offering the most subtle of contact to her as support. The unexpected however, is Akira and Ann.

The strong but empathetic leader of the Phantom Thieves is… braiding a girls hair? 

“Why are you doing that?” Futaba blurts out before she can think twice about it. She smacks her mouth shut, eyes slightly widening in shock.

Akira stops his hands, and everyone else in the room stares at her with the slightest trace of malice. 

“What, is there something wrong with a dude braiding hair?” As always, Ryuji is the first to step in when someone is being unfairly questioned.

“No, I-” 

“I don’t think there’s anything to be surprised about. It’s a lovely skill of Akira that provides the most beautiful of results, and shouldn’t be disrupted.” Futaba isn’t making eye contact with Yusuke (or anyone else in the room) but feels his sharp gaze on her.

“Settle down. While I’m sure Futaba means no ill will about it, you do have to have to admit that the first time you see it it is a little surprising.” Makoto saves Futaba, playing the diplomat. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry it came off that way! Just surprising, like Makoto said.” With that, all of the slight tension dissipates. In her peripheral, Futaba sees Ann turn around and give Akira an encouraging nod, and he smiles back slightly before continuing on with the braiding.

“It’s okay Futaba. To explain: I used to braid my mom’s hair a lot before I moved out here, basically. So Ann let’s me braid her hair from time to time. It’s comforting.” Akira states, a bit softer than usual. Futaba fixates on his words, slightly.

‘His mom’s hair…’ She would’ve been lost in more thought until she was taken out of her trance by Ryuji’s excitement about going out as a group. As in, outside. Right. Fuck. Time to aggressively pet Morgana to cope.

\--

The meeting commences, and the group files out one by one to catch the next train heading back to their respective homes. Soon it’s just Akira, Morgana and Futaba. Akira stands up, as Futaba fills the silence.

“Akira, what’s your mom like?” If Akira is caught-off guard by the non-sequitur, it doesn’t show on his face. Instead, he grins. It’s more fond than his Joker smile, more kind. Honestly, the real surprise of tonight is how often he can smile in the company of his friends.

“We’re really close. I’ve never complained about her even to friends, despite spending a lot of time together just due to how boring and small my hometown is. She’s the only adult to not once doubt me about the cause of my probation. I miss her.”

“I can’t wait to meet her one day!” Morgana says, his tail moving in excitement.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to introduce you all to her.” 

“That sounds...nice. Sorry if I was being rude earlier, by the way.” Futaba stands up and faces Akira directly, looking a bit bold suddenly. “I think what surprised me was that it brought a lot of good memories of my mom. She used to braid my hair while we rode the train together, or when we were waiting at a restaurant or something. Actually, I wanted to ask if you c-could…”

Futaba’s words trail away and her eyes are slightly misty, but Akira can clearly see what she wants to ask. 

Akira nods. He sits right back down onto his mattress, tapping the floor in front of him again with his foot. Futaba eagerly sits down, looking more comfortable than she has since she’s stepped into the room.

“Thanks. I tried asking Sojiro once but he kinda sucked at it, don’t let him know I said that though.” Futaba chides mischievously, darting her eyes back and forth as if he’s in listening distance. “Do twin braids if you can. Mom said my hair was too annoying to do a single one.”

Akira picks up her hair and continues braiding for the second time tonight.

“Mom was such a brilliant scientist. But she was always so awful about deciding what to eat. Seriously. We went to the same convenience store three times a week and she always took forever to decide between melon bread and yaksioba bread. Even though I told her so many times yakisoba bread is way better...”

Futaba chatted about her mom fondly. It was like a dam that couldn’t be stopped. How her mom once burned her uniform with the iron, or how one time her mom picked her up early from school to get a Happy Meal from Big Bang burger. How the two of them would walk into Leblanc and sit on the corner stools to have some curry and chat with Sojiro.

Morgana and Futaba drove the majority of the conversation. But Akira enjoyed it just as much, even chuckling from time to time. After Futaba lands on a convenient stopping point. She eagerly touches her near complete braids.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I was able to think about my happy memories with my mom. That stupid fake note clouded my thoughts of her, so I’m actually very happy to be able to talk with you guys about her. Sometimes I wanna talk about mom with Sojiro too but it was just too painful for the both of us. But I think I’m able to finally do it. So thank you, Akira!” She turns to face Akira and Morgana. “I am a bit tired though, that was waaay too relaxing and emotionally involved. If you don’t mind me.”

Without any other warning, she lays her head (gently, only to not destroy Akira’s handiwork) on the wooden floor of the attic. Her breathing falls into a deep, steady pattern. Both Akira and Morgana share an exasperated look with each other.

“You know, if we didn’t have first hand experience of her sleeping for eight days straight, I would be more in shock.” Morgana stated. Akira sits, wondering how to proceed with the sleeping teen on the floor when Sojiro walks in slowly.

“Sheesh. This girl will sleep anywhere.” He says fondly, only playing up annoyance. He walks across the attic to pick Futaba up with ease. “Walk with me back to the house, kid. I’ll need you to open the door.” Without waiting for a response, Sojiro turns around and starts heading out. “Don’t forget to lock up the store too, god knows I need a robbery happening in the 3 minute walk to the house.”

“Well, good thing Boss came through once again.” Morgana lands gracefully on the floor, “I’ll join you guys too.” Akira follows Morgana out of the store, locking the door as Sojiro commanded.

The warm summer heat hits them both like a freight train as soon as they step outside. Sojiro isn’t walking too briskly, so they quickly catch up to meet his slower-than-usual stride. The sounds of their feet hitting pavement is the only sound in the alleyway, even though it’s relatively early for a summer night.

“You know, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I caught the tail-end of your conversation with Futaba. Not on purpose, I was checking just to see if she managed your rowdy group okay.” Sojiro said.

“She did great.” Akira said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Morgana meows in agreement.

“I’m glad to hear it. You know, if I knew you were the one braiding Ann-chan’s hair, I would’ve asked if you could’ve taught me too. Figured it was the other girl or your artist friend’s doing.” Sojiro turns his head towards Akira, pausing for a moment. Futaba is still snoring away. Sojiro continues on.

“I think the braids helped her a lot. Like she said, it’s been a long while since either of us talked about Wakaba. But if Futaba is able to move on and overcome her struggles, then I can too. Keep up the good work, kid. I’ll teach you something special tomorrow since it’s a bit late tonight. Promise it’ll be no dish duty.” They finally arrived in front of the gate.

“Sounds good to me, Boss.” Akira says, keeping his voice low more as a formality versus an actual concern to inadvertently waking Futaba. He grabs the key from his pocket and unlocks the front door, turning the light on.

“Man, there’s benefits to living so close by. Glad that mushy talk didn’t have to continue for much too long. It's obviously not my speed.” Sojiro gently lays Futaba on the living room couch, draping a light blanket onto her body. Akira and Morgana await near the front door, lingering to see if Sojiro needs anything else before they head back to the attic.

Suddenly, Sojiro claps his hand on Akira’s shoulder. Akira easily notes this is the first sort of physical affection Sojiro has offered him. He looks up at Sojiro in surprise.

“You did good, kid. Sleep well you two.” And with that, Sojiro turns around again to smile at his daughter.

“Good night, sir.” 

The walk back to Leblanc felt even faster than their walk to the house. Akira flips the sign and shuts off the cafe lights for now, the two of them working their way back up stairs.

“Man, it’s amazing. Braiding your mom’s hair brought you and her together, just like it did for Futaba and her mom. And now you guys get share that bond together!” Morgana noted, sitting on the top of the drawer. “Even out of battle, you guys are a great support to one another. But man, I wish I could braid Lady Ann’s hair too!”

Akira petted Morgana, much to his ire. “I’m happy about it too.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a fidget toy for you?!”

“You should grow your mane out. So I can braid it too and we can have a nice moment and I won’t have to pet you.”

“You are insufferable sometimes. Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appreciate the love directed in the first chapter. I'm working on another p5 fic (no spoilers but I'm very excited for it and I think it's a pretty fresh idea) but wanted to bust out more fluff in the meantime.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi enters the braid room, aka the attic of leblanc

Akira can’t quite figure out how it spiraled to this.

“Boss.”

“Yes, kid?” Sojiro asks, not lifting his eyes away from the morning newspaper.

It’s an easy Sunday morning. Akira is stirring the curry behind the counter, while Sojiro leans on the counter and continues his morning rituals of filling out the crossword puzzle. Besides the quiet hum of the stove, the only sound in the cafe before opening is the tapping of Sojiro’s pen.

“Doctor Takemi made a joke about my braiding during my last visit. How did she know?” He asked the question lightly, but there’s a hint of exasperation behind it.

“Hold on, let’s trade information first. Why were you seeing the doctor to begin with? Is something the matter?” Sojiro’s eyes are definitely not focused on the paper anymore. He swivels around to make eye contact with Akira, glancing at his form before realizing that he isn’t obviously injured in any aspect. Though he knows that Akira has quite the pain threshold and his body language isn’t always indicative of his health.

“Er, I’m fine. Secret stuff, but nothing to worry about. Promise.” Akira usually accepted the mostly paternal bond between himself and Sojiro with only positive associations. Yet, the occasional (often) worry he inspired in Sojiro made him feel guilty. Not enough to regret becoming close enough to him to begin with, but enough to wish there was another way around the mischief of being a Phantom Thief that wasn’t so dangerous and risky. In this case though, all he can really do is play his cards right and not worry any of his (dangerously large) family in Tokyo. 

Sojiro glanced at him once more before deciding to accept his response. “Futaba was over the last time the doctor dropped by for a drink. She asked if I was the one who did her hair and Futaba ratted you out to her, sorry. She had quite the laugh about it, though.”

“Well,” Akira says dryly, now that the slight tension dissipated “you’re really killing my street cred, here. I have a delinquent reputation to maintain.” 

“Son, you walk around with a cute cat in your bag and you have idol posters up and potted plants in the attic. You’re not fooling me,” Sojiro shot back, resuming his crossword puzzle. 

“He has a point there.” Morgana stated, lazily basking in the sunlight through the open window. 

Can’t believe Morgana had the gall to call him insufferable when they both see the Sakura family daily.

\---

It’s evening now, and Sojiro asked Akira to watch the cafe while he fetches some items for himself and Futaba. It’s a sunday as well, so he figures he should crack open his books and do some math while waiting for 8pm to strike so he can flip the sign over. It’s quiet, especially since Morgana ditched him to have some sushi at the Okumura household. 

It’s 7:32 pm when Akechi walks in.

“We should really hold an intervention for you. Who wants a coffee this late in the evening?” Akira chooses to ignore his own espresso placed beside his textbooks.

“Sakura-san should really hold a class on proper customer service. I believe in small businesses, which is why I choose to visit LeBlanc.” In reality, Akira knows it’s because both himself and Sojiro pour the requisite amount of sugar for Akechi without making him verbally ask for it. 

Like clockwork, Akira pours out the drink in a cup and slides it gently towards Akechi, who already took a seat on the barstool and placed his briefcase in the adjacent seat.

“Thank you,” Akechi smiles, differently than the smiles Akira receives when he sees his interviews on television. “Though, I will say I also stopped by to inquire about an interesting instagram post I saw.” 

Akira pauses. ‘Interesting’ to Akechi definitely translates to a ‘I’m bringing this up in bad faith’. 

“Has Ann involved you in her schemes about de-Morganafying my account?” 

All hints of mischief in Akechi’s eyes replaced with genuine confusion. He raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry about it. What are you talking about?” Akira doesn’t go on instagram very often, so he is unsure what chaos their friend group causes on that end.

Instead of verbally replying, Akechi unlocks his phone and deftly opens Ann’s own instagram. He places his phone onto the counter, before spinning it towards Akira’s orientation.

Akira glances right away, not that it’s particularly difficult to read with Akechi’s hilariously gigantic phone screen. 

Oh.

It’s a picture of the last braid he did on Ann last week while waiting for Yusuke to arrive at the attic before they went out for dinner. If he can say so to himself, it was his best work yet. It was a waterfall braid, something new that he figured would be pretty with Ann’s hair. Clearly Ann thought so too at the time. Akira just didn’t know she liked it enough to post it on her public account.

@chocomaki ✓  
Went out for dinner with some friends, check out the work my friend @akiradashell did on my hair!! Meanwhile i cant even do a simple twist. 😭😭 thanks again akira!! 

2,546 likes

God damn it. 

“Why did she have to link my account.”

“Why is your handle ‘akiradashell’.

“First off, I don’t want to hear that from @Akechi.Goro. Second of all, I lost a bet.” Akira rested his head on his arms, no longer in the mood to even pretend to do his assignments. He definitely has to text Ann once he closes up LeBlanc for the night. 

“I was just curious as to why Ann would lie about you of all people braiding her hair. It sounded like an interesting scheme.” Akechi said, crossing his legs and presenting a pleasant smile.

Akira lifts his head at that response. “Wow, you think I can’t braid hair.” 

“I’ve seen how unsightly your tie looks in the morning. No, I do not think you can braid hair.” Akechi takes another sip of his sugar with caffeine while lightly tapping away at his laptop. 

As much as Akira likes to facetiously insult Akechi, he can not say he is a bad detective. He can’t believe that while he was able to successfully pick up on them being the Phantom Thieves, he has incorrectly concluded that he can’t braid hair. 

Akechi glances away at his screen and makes eye contact with Akira, who has an unamused expression on his face. “Oh. It wasn’t a lie, then.”

“Nope. I braid Ann’s and Futaba’s hair from time to time. Used to do it for my mom back at home,” Akira says while adjusting his glasses. 

Akechi’s fast typing slows down a tempo. “That’s surprising. That makes two of us, then.” The way Akechi says it makes Akira pause. There’s a hint of candid drama. Different than when Akechi is playing a character to his coworkers or his fangirls, different than when he’s shooting the shit with Akira. Like there’s a thread left loose, asking to be undone. Akira waited for Akechi to expand on that comment but he didn't, not unprompted. 

“Do you now?” He bit, choosing to be straightforward for the first time this evening. 

“Not now, but I did. Some fan sites list it right below my food blog as a fun factoid of me.” Akechi flashes him a somewhat cheeky grin, betraying the fake modesty that laced his voice. 

“Can’t wait until the day I can hang your poster next to Risette’s.”

“You will not hang more pictures of my face in your putrid attic.” Haru had taken up the mantle to decorate the attic with candid polaroids of all of them. If it was anyone else, Akechi wouldn’t be able to hold back a comment about how stereotypically teen girl this is. As it stands, even he figures they could do with some semblance of normality in their lives. 

“Hey, I spend 100$ a week for a maid to clean it. Don’t be rude.” He’s not lying. 

Akechi laughs softly, covering his mouth with a gloved hand. “You should consider getting a more professional service. Last time I was there I saw Kitagawa-kun draw something with the dust coating the wall.” It’s crazy how easy it would be to fall back into a more comfortable rhythm with Akechi.

“I thought you believed in small businesses. Anyways, why do you know how to braid hair?” Akira knows this strategy better than anyone. Get off track with a potentially personal moment by engaging in enough banter to derail the conversation. Typically, he’d let the moment pass. That was the comforting thing about hanging with Akechi. While most good friends knew not to step over boundaries, the boundaries often had to be explicitly stated, which can be vaguely uncomfortable all on its own. Whatever has led to it, Akira and Akechi never had to tell the other what things to drop, they simply fell off without further comment. 

Things were both more and less complicated with Akechi in that way. They haven’t verbally probed each other since they joined the same side. There was no need to. But Akira knew that if he was emotionally constipated at times, then Akechi had enough emotional obstruction to be declared a medical emergency at best. 

It was hard, trying to maintain respect of their comforts while trying to be there for each other. Akechi’s support network is slowly growing, and he’s trying his best to let the rest of the Thieves in at his own, snail pace. Yet, Akira can’t help but speed up the process in this case, while the time is about as right as it could be. 

He’s offering, and it’s up to Akechi to take it or not, no strings attached. 

Akechi is subtly shifting his weight between his seated legs, a physical manifestation of the mental dilemma he's processing. His face still has the same neutral expression on it. 

“Ah, would you mind if I brought the coffee upstairs?” He’s has the tiniest hint of apprehension, which is something Akira doesn’t see often on Akechi. 

“Go right ahead. Let me flip the sign first.” He turns around, letting Akechi climb the stairs. 

He stalls for a tiny bit, collecting his books, quickly rinsing his cup and giving a final wipe down to the counter and the espresso machine before flipping the sign and shutting most of the downstairs lights. It’s close enough to 8pm and Sojiro already gave him the green-light to close whenever he wished anyways. 

Finally, Akira himself heads up the stairs. Akechi is sitting on the couch, legs crossed and coffee sitting on the computer desk. 

While the couch can definitely fit two bodies comfortably, Akira is much more of a sprawler and would prefer to stretch his legs. With that in mind, he plops down to the floor in front of the couch, in front of where he would be sitting if he sat down properly. He leans his head against the cushions, turning his head to the side to face Akechi. 

“Let me braid your hair, Akira-kun.”

Akira is mostly unfazed at this request. “Is it even long enough to be enjoyable to braid?” He has to ask. 

“Mmm, I’m not certain. Let’s learn together.” Akira scoots so that he’s sitting in front of Akechi. Role reversal it is.

“I’m not surprised you don’t use hair products.” Akechi states, giving some cursory glides to Akira’s hair. Akira isn’t really sure if he should take this as an insult, and forgoes opening his mouth to not ruin the mood.

“The last time I did this… was definitely before I entered middle school. Like I mentioned to you before, I was ricocheting between different homes. I tend to only remember the bad times, but there were definitely times worthy to be nostalgic of. I suppose that’s the weird feeling I’m experiencing right now.” Akechi mused, speaking softly as if there’s no audience in the room.

Akira nods lightly. He sees the appeal in his hair being braided. There’s a bit of an unusual noise everytime Akechi attempts to smooth a strand, probably because of the gloves he’s still donning. It reminds Akira of the ASMR Makoto has insisted once or a dozen times for everyone to listen to. Soothing in a strange fashion. Again, because his hair isn’t anywhere near long enough Akechi has to be a bit creative. Instead of traveling down, Akechi is braiding along his hairline, making a small french braid from the center of his forehead to (presumably) the nape of his neck. 

It’s somehow less awkward than Akira would imagine this scenario, though he’s not sure if Akechi would say the same.

“It’s strange to compare things from back-then to now. In the past I was just another kid in a depressing system. There were no sort of accomplishments or established traits that made me an especially compelling child to talk to. I was typically the oldest too, so most of the other kids and caretakers didn’t pay much attention to me.”

“Err, not to say this was an especially negative development to me. It was probably preferable, since it wasn’t the environment where I was vying to be noticed. I don’t look at this especially with sadness, just more of an acknowledgment of how it used to be.” Akechi clarifies, while tucking in some wayward cowlicks as best as he could. 

“Regardless, there was a little girl who was at the home I stayed the longest in. I don’t quite remember her name, or much else about her. She did however carry around the strangest drawing with her. It was a self-portrait, which was little more than a stick figure with a large head.” Akira can’t really see Akechi’s face, but he can hear the smile.

“I think I was the last person she asked. She came up to me one day during a late afternoon while I was reading, shoving her drawing in my face and asking her to do her hair like that. It was just a bunch of X’s on her scalp but I think I had the picture.” 

“I’m not sure what possessed me to say yes to her. I didn’t really know how to braid at the time, obviously. But I think it was the first time someone wanted to lean on me, ask me for something like I could provide it.” Akechi scooted to the other half of the couch, as he finished Akira’s first half of his braid.

“How did the braid turn out?” Akira asked, trying not to be too comfortable while Akechi kept working on his hair. 

“Dreadful. But she hugged me and we chatted the whole time. And we did this again and again and again until it was second nature to us both. She left the home one day in high spirits, and we hugged before she left for good. I haven’t thought of her in the longest time. It was nice to remember her, and remember a time where simple things like that made my week.” 

“There wasn’t really much point to this story, there was no grand conclusion. Sorry for wasting your precious Sunday evening with my dribble. It isn’t really the tale to say in an interview, so it’s some real bottom of the barrel anecdotes.” Akechi said, while finishing up the braid. 

If Akira could shake his head right now, he would. “No apologies needed. It was nice to hear you be honest and just say what’s on your mind. I hope you don’t mind sharing more often, or vice versa. I grew up in a fishing town, so I can definitely one-up you in slice of life tales. I’ll even grow out my hair more for you.”

Akira pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening the front camera to see Akechi’s final work. Damn, he did a great job. As exposed as Akira felt with his forehead so bare, the braid was quite pretty and even. He definitely got the appeal of being on the other end of this.

“You definitely had good practice put in. Say cheese.” Akira declared, angling his phone upward so he can quickly capture both his braided, majestic self and an unguarded Akechi before he fixed a smile. “It’s to commemorate this youthful and heartfelt bonding session.” Gotta give Akechi an out, otherwise he tends to awkwardly flounder on the sentimentality for too long and gets nervous, according to Ryuji. God, Akira only wishes he could (ethically) eavesdrop on Ryuji and Akechi of all people having an earnest heart-to-heart. 

The front camera is still open for a brief moment, so Akira sees Akechi rolling his eyes as he locks his phone again. 

“You are unbelievable.” The expression on Akechi’s face is definitely lighter than when he entered LeBlanc earlier in the evening though, so Akira decides to translate this to “We’re such great friends.” 

“I think you’re a bro too, bro.” Akira blindly taps Akechi’s kneecap from over his shoulder. 

Akechi refuses to respond to this. “It’s getting late for those of us who wake up at a respectable hour, so I’ll be heading home.” Akira scoots away so Akechi can actually stand up and collect his items. He makes a show of dusting off non-existent dust that has settled onto his attire while he sat in the attic. 

“Thank you Akira. This was...nice.” Akechi is facing the other way so he can’t really meet Akira's eyes. 

“Thanks for stopping by. Lock the door on your way out.” Akira waves at him. Akechi pauses and turns to give him a quick but genuine smile, before descending down the steps. 

Honestly, Akira understands why Futaba ends up sleeping half the time he braids her hair. It was crazy relaxing, even to someone who’s sleep schedule is as irregular as his. Of course, it was also nice to get Akechi to talk about something personal and feel like there is definite proof they’re good friends. Even if Akechi will pretend this didn’t happen for some time.

After nodding off for a moment more, Akira heads downstairs to brush his teeth and double check the doors before he retires for the night. 

He makes his way back to bed, feeling slightly colder without Morgana there. Although, the fact that he’s absent does mean he can go on his phone lecture free. 

Akira: did you make it home safe?

Akechi: Yes, mother. Thanks for checking in. 

Akira: dont be rude im being nice. btw-

Akira: you said you cared about small businesses and yet you didn’t take your coffee back downstairs. 

*image_382 attached*

Akechi: Apologies. I believed that the unsightly decor of your room and my mess made a perfect pair. 

Akechi: Good night, Akira-kun. Sleep well. 

Akira: you're the worst guest ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s a wrap. Appreciate all the love you guys had, you’re the reason why this silly idea became 20+ pages
> 
> anns handle was stolen from the ever iconic “this accounts tweets are protected” bc that is my holy grail fic
> 
> This was written 100% on mobile, so last minute edits will probably roll in at some point to increase prettiness


End file.
